


and/or

by 127AM (hotmess_ex_press)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Repeat Cut, kinda? ???, suicidal thoughts for a sentence or two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-08-12 03:33:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20144929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hotmess_ex_press/pseuds/127AM
Summary: "it's not for forever," minseok says.junmyeon's shirt buttons are fastened one off. "hyung," he whimpers.minseok's throat convulses. "i'll see you around, junmyeon."





	and/or

**Author's Note:**

> never in one million years would i have guessed my first exo fic would be xiuho but here we are, please enjoy

"it's not for forever," minseok says.

junmyeon's shirt buttons are fastened one off. "hyung," he whimpers.

minseok's throat convulses. "i'll see you around, junmyeon."

junmyeon looks, doesn't see through that dizzy halo minseok always manages to tip him into. minseok could see anything, if he so chose to, which is why his gaze flirts around everything that isn't junmyeon.

if junmyeon could break the spell of minseok's sharp wrist bones and nightshade slick lips, then maybe he would be able to catch all the dewspun emotions minseok isn't as good at concealing as he thinks he is, to collect and let accompany him on the slower, prettier sleepless nights.

but junmyeon's butterfingers let slip all the precious things, useless eyes missing what might have saved them.

he misses the tremor, sweet and young, encased in minseok's otherwise hollow voice. "it's not for forever," his mouth is good and flushed. the way minseok's spidery eyelashes web against his cheekbones as he drinks his tears back to scrape through his skull.

if he could see properly, wasn't so infinitely dazzled by every moment spent at minseok's side, maybe he could have found more convincing words, the argument leaving minseok with no choice but to _stay_, stay with him. as it is, all that can tilt through his lips is a single, pitiful, "_hyung_."

and, if junmyeon was better, he would have known. but it escapes him, the fact that an ugly, pleading _hyung_ is almost enough to persuade minseok, seeing that it's coming from _him_.

but it was not to be. minseok swallows, this much junmyeon knows. "i'll see you around. junmyeon."

he turns on a crisp heel, leaves junmyeon to wonder if he really _will_ see minseok around, or if it's just another pretty way of saying _goodbye_ when you can't force out an _i'll miss you_. minseok is no liar, but junmyeon couldn't recognize a lie if it was tangled right in front of his face to begin with.

he stumbles back to bed and crumples like the untucked hem of his shirt.

in his dreams, minseok doesn't turn. he lingers at the door, then matches junmyeon's buttons to their correct slot before undoing all of his work to push the shirt right off of junmyeon's eager shoulders. he shoves, shoves junmyeon through the house to tumble backwards onto his bed, then they kiss so tenderly junmyeon cries. minseok stays, stretched graceful and glowing across a bare mattress. junmyeon never has to put on a shirt again because they lay there together forever, screen door still dangling open on its hinges to let in the seasons. summer slips in, kisses them sticky and high. autumn lets its bloody leaves collect and rot in the corners of the room, followed by winter, blanketing them in the freezing pressure of endless snow. in spring, the bees drift in to sting them awake.

in his nightmares, minseok uses steady ring fingers to tug junmyeon's eyelids down. then he presses up onto his toes to brush his lips over junmyeon's eyes, soft still but mocking.

_what use_, says he, says minseok in these terrible visions, _what use are eyes if you never use them_.

and minseok runs just like he does in reality, but junmyeon can't open his eyes no matter how hard he tries. he raises shaky ring fingers to prod at them but his eyelids give like milk-soaked cookies and they are vacant sockets; his hands plunge all the way through. his fingers break through the other side of his head, forearm deep, and still he wants minseok. he screams.

but this is reality, and junmyeon wakes with his head full of eyes and his wrinkled shirt on. he walks through the still-open door and goes to work.

minseok is good at reading faces. junmyeon's pretty little face is good at being read.

he looks everywhere but junmyeon's eyes, and the rest of him, for good measure.

minseok steels himself. he is going to cry, he is going to break and sob and scream but delay, delay. he blinks at the mailbox and fantasizes about pushing everything down long enough to get in his car and slam off of a bridge, or into a lamppost. sprawling bone and melted flesh across the broken glass scattered like wedding rice over the bonnet of his car, leave all the pain and tears to deal within his next life.

"it's not for forever," minseok tells junmyeon, and it's only a lie if he gets his way.

"hyung," junmyeon keens, and minseok nearly shatters on the spot. he doesn't glance up but it's a close thing. if he catches sight of junmyeon's bare legs, those blushed knees and one foot stuffed into a drooping sock, he will fall to his own weak knees and clutch at junmyeon's lopsided pale green dress shirt and _beg_.

if he gives himself the chance to gaze at junmyeon's face one last time, betrayed and beautiful, he'll fall right back into those quivery warm hands and dying-star eyes and never breathe again. he'll stay and pretend and waste away. it'll be perfect.

minseok swallows it all away.

"i'll see you around," he pauses, hates himself. his entire body shivers around the name, treasures it close, curls it around his tongue like the final kiss he won't let himself steal. "_junmyeon_."

heel of his boot crushed to the cement, minseok tries not to stagger. he knows junmyeon, he can guess what he's thinking without even chancing a peek. minseok is no liar; even if he and junmyeon never step into the same room, live in the same city, breathe the same polluted air again, he will see junmyeon _everywhere_.

most obviously, the half of his camera roll that isn't flowers and cigarettes crushed into puddles of rain and piss, if he ever dares to unlock his phone again. then, memories of junmyeon. in minseok's mint-and-navy sheets, not because he ever slept there but because he liked the colors. every time he hesitates before taking a drag, not because junmyeon smoked but because he hated it when minseok did and he was the only reason not to, wasn't he? when the sun rises with all of its gold and new beginnings and minseok will regret.

he will see junmyeon in every new lover he takes and breaks, little flashes and morsels in the form of a smile, a song in the shower, a line of poetry that feels shockingly familiar. he will see junmyeon in every new lover because he will be _looking_ for junmyeon, and it will never be enough. why should it be?

he will visit junmyeon in his dreams, he doesn't doubt, the everlasting urge to just _go back_ and nudge junmyeon onto his bed and arrange him into minseok's arms where they can kiss until they're skeletons cracking teeth.

minseok climbs into his car and doesn't run through a streetlamp. he stops in the middle of the road, two blocks away from junmyeon's place. there, he cries. he can't breathe but it was either empty lungs alone or stolen breath with junmyeon. he isn't sure what's worse.

"it's not for forever," minseok claims. his promise doesn't matter because it's as close to a lie as minseok gets; this is as close as they will be for the rest of their lives. of course it will hurt for forever but minseok doesn't think about that.

he keeps his tears at bay but that doesn't matter because in five minutes he'll be crying anyway, it's just who sees.

junmyeon moans. "hyung."

it doesn't matter because minseok leaves anyway. junmyeon says _hyung_ but what he means is _all i've ever wanted is for you to stay_. it doesn't matter that those words would have been what minseok _did_ stay for, because they were never spoken in the first place.

it doesn't matter. "i'll see you around, junmyeon." it doesn't matter because seeing sure isn't touching, and touching never was loving.

it doesn't matter that junmyeon is still in love when he falls asleep, he'll have plenty of time to be happy in his dreams and plenty of time to cry in his nightmares. it matters even less that he's still in love when he wakes up because _love_ doesn't mean he can suddenly see everything. it doesn't iron his shirts and pay the bills, although minseok used to, if he asked.

it doesn't matter that minseok makes it home after he cries himself parched, because he'll be miles away, vomiting on the side of the road, just twelve hours later.

minseok runs circles around himself but can't help leaving that little thread of hope behind for junmyeon. "it's not for forever."

"hyung--"

"i'll see you around," minseok cuts him off, even though junmyeon might not have been able to form an elegant enough sentence anyway. still, it's the thought that a few words unsaid could have changed everything. "junmyeon."

_love_ doesn't mean everything can be fixed.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos are loved and cherished forever  
[twitter](https://twitter.com/htmess_ex_press)


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